


i will be the wolf

by diasterisms



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Dark Rey (Star Wars), Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent Due To Dark Side Influence, F/M, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-09-28 18:13:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20430281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diasterisms/pseuds/diasterisms
Summary: She waits for him at the end of a string.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DrkLdyKay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrkLdyKay/gifts), [Indicative55](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Indicative55/gifts), [OurLadyOfRebellion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OurLadyOfRebellion/gifts), [DeathDama](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathDama/gifts).

> So, it's been a pretty great week. Not only did we get all that glorious Reylo content at D23, but I was also featured on a three-hour-long ["Diasterisms Super Episode"](https://player.fm/series/the-smut-hutt/ep-10-diasterisms-super-episode) of the Smut Hutt Podcast! These ladies inspired me so much to take more risks with my writing and to explore more facets of the ship that I love. This is a little speculative two-shot based on the TROS teaser— needless to say, spoilers abound— and it's for you, Kay, Michelle, Sophia, and Mariana, with all my adoration and gratitude.
> 
> P.S. Please mind the tags! As always, feedback would be much appreciated. ❤️

In 5000 BBY, the fugitive crew of the _Starbreaker 12 _inadvertently discovered a new hyperlane when they fled to lightspeed at Empress Teta and did not emerge until they reached Korriban. It's the longest blind jump in galactic history, a record that remains unbroken to this day. 120 standard hours hurtling through the starlines with no guiding coordinates, with nothing but a vague sliver of hope that the vessel and those onboard would not turn into space dust.

It had been sheer desperation that led Gav and Jori Daragon to embark on that treacherous journey from the Deep Core to an uncharted section of the Outer Rim. It is with sheer desperation that Kylo Ren now takes the path they'd forged, the _Millennium Falcon _ creaking worryingly along its shatterpoints as he coaxes it from one system to the next, mass shadows of distant planets blurring past the corners of his eyes. When the navicomp indicates that he's reached Korriban, he pulls the freighter _hard _into the next junction, lurching out of the Daragon Trail and into the Nache Bhelfia, closer towards Rey.

She waits for him at the end of a string. The bridge that Snoke had built between their minds, that lingered like a scar even after its creator's death. Although perhaps _linger _ is the wrong word— it implies faintness, it implies fading away, and what the Force bond does is— it _burns. _Not a scar, but a fresh wound steeped in bitterness.

A living thing, even more so after what had happened amidst the ruins of the Death Star.

After what she had _become._

The _Falcon _ rattles on its hinges as it veers too close to the unstable heart of the Stygian Caldera. Kylo barely has time to correct his course before the ship disintegrates. He feels no remorse about stealing it right out from under Chewbacca, Poe Dameron, and FN-2187's noses— it had been the first spaceworthy vessel he could get to in the aftermath of the cataclysm, even if _spaceworthy _is overly generous in this case.

It's a piece of junk. He'd done them a _favor._

As if to illustrate his point, a fuse blows when he leaps back into realspace, the sharp _pop _as sudden and as loud as a blaster being discharged. Acting fast, Kylo yanks out the offending wires from the dashboard panel while acrid smoke fills the cockpit.

Rey laughs at him from wherever she is. Her amusement curls through the bond like tendrils of ink unfurling in still water. He doesn't ask her where she is. Doesn't so much as acknowledge her presence, afraid that she'll spook and shut him out completely. Instead, he lets himself be pulled along by the invisible tethers that draw him in and he tries not to think of spiderwebs.

_**Odojinya,**_ she whispers in his mind, in a voice that rakes down his spine. _To ensnare. _It's an old Sith incantation that she should not know, but there had been holocrons lodged into the nooks and crannies of the fallen Death Star, torn from a central storage chamber and scattered every which way by wind and waves and gravity.

They had all opened for her.

Eventually the smoke clears and Kylo is staring at the ghostly, cratered orb of Krayiss Two looming beyond the transparisteel viewport. Suspended between binary moons, the planet was one of the five sacred worlds of the Sith Empire, along with Ziost, Khar Delba, Rhelg, and Korriban, strung like prayer beads on the Nache Bhelfia loop. It's uninhabited now— or, at least, it _should _be. The Jedi Order and the Old Republic had decimated this corner of the Esstran sector thousands of years ago.

_Let the past die. _ He had told her that once. But what if it can't be killed? It's all around him, the celestial wastes of the old Sith Worlds, and there had been something on the Death Star, whispering along with the holocron gatekeepers but more than a memory unlike them. There had been _someone, _calling to both Kylo and Rey as they dueled.

She had _answered. _The water rising, great sheets of corroded metal swirling around them like a whirlwind, a thunderstorm crashing down over their heads. Soldiers— First Order and Resistance alike— swept away, or felled where they stood by an outpouring of some raw, terrible power. The center of which had seemed to emanate from Rey herself.

Kylo remembers the lightning. The look in her eyes, confusion gradually morphing into an inexplicable blank fury. The snarl that had curled on her lips before it all went to hell. She had left quickly afterwards, a semblance of sanity flickering across her features before she turned and ran to the nearest ship. He had chased after her without a second thought, leaving the war behind, leaving their respective troops to pick up the pieces.

And now the bond shivers in anticipation when he makes planetfall on Krayiss Two, where it is night, long and solemn and afforded a meager gleam of waxen illumination by the lower of the two moons that clings close to the planet's surface. The moment the _Falcon _docks and Kylo sets foot on the barren world, Rey's Force signature wraps around him in gentle nets cast out from the darkness, as if she is welcoming him home.

*

Nothing grows on Krayiss Two save for the obelisk. It rises from the parched earth like the sunken, hollowed-out destroyers of Rey's childhood, a gigantic black structure that is all that remains of a great Sith temple stained silver by moonlight. The battered starfighter she had commandeered is still and empty in the shade that it casts. Kylo approaches, the currents of the dark side prowling at his flanks like animals— there is a presence keeping them at bay, the same presence that had filled his head and drowned out Palpatine's summons. It's so tangible that he can almost feel someone looking over his shoulder, and he wonders who walks with him. What he'll see if he turns around.

_**Don't,**_ Rey murmurs. _**Tapti' kia nun.**_

_Come to me._

He obeys despite the fact that he is wary, despite the fact that she speaks in the guttural language of the ancient Sith. He would follow her anywhere, even to the very edge of the Netherworld itself, even if it should prove to be his own ruin. The glyphs etched along the base of the obelisk glint and thrum as he draws ever nearer, and they ripple at his black-gloved touch as if they've been spun from air and not stone.

The walls part before him. A set of stairs unfolds, leading down into some infinite abyss. His every instinct cries out in warning but, then again, he's never known what's good for him and this, too, feels like destiny.

_**Find me,**_ Rey says. She sounds a little more like herself this time. As if what's left of her has broken through the surface for the most fleeting of moments.

_I will, _Kylo promises, and he descends.

*

Before time buried most of it beneath the ground, the temple had served as a library— a place for meditation and a repository of Sith magic. The residue of old spells is written into the very foundations, which remain untouched by dust and grime. Even though there are motion-activated torches that light Kylo's way with each step, the shadows are still long and they sing of poison and embers and anguish, the twisted paths, the hardest truths, the Left-Handed God.

_ Nwul tash, _ says the creak of stone. _ Dzwol shasotkun. _

_Peace is a lie. There is only passion._

"I believed that, once," remarks the one who walks with him, here under the earth. Who exists at the periphery of his senses, helping him stay afloat in these labyrinths where the dark side threatens to engulf everything. "And its counterpoint, before. That's the thing about being born a slave— you don't realize that you're trading one set of rules for another. And so it goes."

"Why are you helping me?" Kylo asks, uncertain whether there are words being said out loud or if the whole conversation is happening in his head.

"Because _ he _ has returned, and cannot be allowed to triumph after all that has been lost. Because this is the same war, but it doesn't have to end the same way. And because—" A hand on his shoulder, perhaps. "Because you asked me to. Now _ go, _and give this story a different ending."

*

Anakin Skywalker does not stay until the end. He had died in the light, for which there is no room in the deepest bowels of the temple where the dark festers at its thickest. To his credit, Kylo manages not to flinch when the wards carved along one of the ancient doorways that he passes tear his grandfather from him; it won't do to show fear in this place, to feed the unseen specters that scrabble at the walls of his heart.

_ **I will show you fear, ** _ Rey tells him, and it sounds like a promise, like the highest attainable pleasure. _ **Tapti' kia nun.** _

After the wards is a narrow path that ends in a set of closed obsidian doors. Rey is on the other side; he senses her on the tip of his tongue, at the base of his spine. Kylo hesitates in front of the doors, only to find himself moving forward again in a matter of seconds when she bids him to enter in a voice that sounds— that _ feels— _like a slim finger crooking in invitation. Beckoning him to intimacy, to secrets, to paradise.

The doors do not open. He walks _ through _them, as if they have suddenly become curtains of mist.

This new chamber is vast. The size of a starship's hangar, made entirely of black Sittana marble shot through with veins of Kallistan gems that glow silver despite the complete and total absence of any light source to reflect. It's enough to see by, these rivers of stardust— enough for Kylo to spy the slender, hooded, black-clad silhouette standing in the middle of the room, the roughly-hewed, pyramidal outline of a crystalline ritual altar looming from the shadows behind her.

His first thought is how pale she looks, her face a sallow contrast to the halo of midnight fabric. He had pursued her up the Daragon Trail for two standard days, during which neither of them had slept— had, instead, circled each other in the bond— and it shows in the bruises under her eyes. His second thought is how beautiful she is, draped in a long tunic cinched at the waist, with high slits cut into the sides for ease of movement, worn over skintight black leggings. Her cloak is made of some sort of diaphanous material; it looks like it would be soft and silky to the touch.

His gloved fists clench at his sides. He aches to touch.

He aches to do a great many things.

Without Anakin Skywalker's presence to shield him the way it had amidst the Death Star's wreckage, the dark energy that pours from the altar is sinking its claws into Kylo's veins, rushing into his lungs like mud, filling his head like a cloying perfume.

"You were foolish to come here alone," Rey says. Her voice echoes through the chamber, as cold as her eyes.

"I'm not alone," Kylo tells her quietly. _ Reminds _her. "And neither are you."

Rey tilts her chin up, nostrils flaring. Although the snug, full sleeves of her attire cover her wrists, her hands are bare. Another contrast, and how often has he kissed those hands in his dreams? They're folded in front of her, clutching something close to her abdomen. It's a lightsaber, but a variant that Kylo has only ever seen in old texts and holocrons— until now, that is. Two hilts, interlocked on a hinge.

"You're wrong," Rey says. "_ I _ was wrong. Everyone is alone. It's a hard lesson to swallow, and perhaps that was why I had to keep learning it. On Jakku, on the _ Supremacy..." _

"You left me first," he whispers, stung. How can it be that a year has passed, and yet they still carry these wounds between them?

"I left before I could be left, or imprisoned, or killed," she counters. "In the end all I will ever have is myself. _ You _taught me that."

As he watches, she thumbs the activator buttons and their eyes meet through the haze of twin plasma beams that are jagged at the edges and undeniably crimson red, like arterial blood.

His heart _ breaks. _

_ "Akisi," _ croons the icy and cruel thing that isn't Rey, cocking her head at him with an almost reptilian curiosity as she calls him the old Sith word for _ beloved— _ when all he wants is for her to call him _ Ben— "yaik unsin j'us narduksun?" _

_Why do you weep?_

It is only then that he becomes aware of the hot wetness dripping down his cheeks, the taste of salt on his lips. Ashamed, he blinks his tears away.

With a flick of her wrist, Rey snaps the dual blades into a staff-like configuration that blazes in the gloom. "I thought this was what you wanted." With her free hand, she gestures down the length of her body as if presenting it to him for consumption.

"I want _ you," _Kylo says hoarsely, fighting the stab of arousal that ignites low in the pit of his stomach. "This isn't you."

She laughs. The sound is smoky and rich and it touches off inner chords within him that, despite his protests, thrum with yearning. "I feel more like myself than I ever have. Was I not always meant to take up this mantle, to wield these blades? All of this was laid out at the altar, waiting for me when I arrived."

"When you _ ran," _ he argues. "You ran before you could inflict more damage, before you could hurt anyone else. _ That _was you."

Although she's still a few feet away, he can almost swear that he sees her bat her lashes at him, the faint trace of laughter still on her lips. "And who did you follow all the way to the ruins of an empire? What you see is what you get. It's me, or nothing at all."

"That's the dark side talking. Palpatine—"

She shakes her head. Red light gleams in her shadowed eyes and suddenly he knows the truth before it leaves her mouth. "He's not here, Ren. I've shaken him off for now. I _told _you." Her smile widens, and it is a predator's smile. Sometimes it takes darkness to unlock darkness. To free what's always been there. "What you see is what you get."

And she leaps at him like she's going for the throat.

Kylo draws his lightsaber on instinct, the serrated red beam of his crossguard blade screeching against hers in a burst of sparks. Their faces are close, so close now, separated only by the intersection of burning light.

"There is only one man I might yet wish to call master," Rey purrs, the crimson glow bleeding over her lips like melted rubies, and a high, keening sort of adrenaline pounds in Kylo's ears as he _imagines _it— Rey on her knees before him, naked and exquisite and subservient, his fingers tangled in her hair as she fucks him with her mouth, and these are dark side thoughts, projections of lust and power in a shrine that amplifies them, but that doesn't make his twisted desires any less _real _and—

— And it was a trick on her end. Kylo realizes that almost too late, he is almost sliced in half when she swings the other end of her saber on its hinge. It's too late to dodge what will undoubtedly be a lethal slash and so he splays his fingers, shoving her backwards with the Force. Instead of regaining her footing, Rey allows herself to drop closer to the floor and she _spins, _her long legs sweeping his feet out from under him. His back collides with the marble tiles, the impact knocking the breath out of his lungs as he blinks up at an obsidian ceiling, and then— as swiftly as a flash of lightning— she is above him, victorious, filling his world, straddling his hips, their blades crossed at his throat. Her hood has been knocked askew and her hair is pulled back in those three buns, a couple of loosened strands framing her face as she peers down at him.

"Or perhaps _ you _ should be the one calling me mistress," she says, her lips twisting into the most dangerous— and the most _ alluring— _ smirk that Kylo has ever seen on a woman. "There should always be two, yes?" She's referencing the _ Chwayatyun, _ the Sith doctrine. "One to embody power, the other to crave it."

Kylo can't think straight anymore. Her body is pressed against his and she smells like incense and she is every sun that ever was. "I crave only you, _ cyar'ika." _

It's a ragged confession, hushed beneath the shriek of their lightsabers, solemn amidst the ghosts of the long-dead Sith. His eyes hold hers in challenge; he wonders what her next move will be.

He doesn't have to wonder for long. Red light inches closer to his neck as the dark and fatal creature that is Rey pushes further into their blade-lock, leaning forward so that the furious hot plasma is a hair's breadth from her own throat as well.

_ "Kotswinot itsu nuyak," _she hums sweetly into the infinitesimal space between them.

_My chains are broken._

He swallows. Her eyes track the movement the way a hunter tracks the next kill.

_ "Wonoksh Qyasik nun," _she breathes, all shivery as her form stretches above him like the tide, and there are gems glittering like stars over her shoulder and there is something of the wolf in her gaze when she slants her lips over his in a languorous, open-mouthed kiss.

_The Force shall free me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Starbreaker 12](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Starbreaker_12).
> 
> [Empress Teta](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Empress_Teta/Legends).
> 
> [Korriban](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Korriban).
> 
> [Gav Daragon](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Gav_Daragon).
> 
> [Jori Daragon](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Jori_Daragon).
> 
> [The Daragon Trail](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Daragon_Trail).
> 
> [The Nache Bhelfia](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Nache_Bhelfia).
> 
> [The Stygian Caldera](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Stygian_Caldera).
> 
> [Krayiss Two](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Krayiss_Two).
> 
> [Ziost](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Ziost/Legends).
> 
> [Khar Delba](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Khar_Delba).
> 
> [Rhelg](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Rhelg).
> 
> [The Sith language](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Sith_%28language%29).
> 
> [Sittana marble](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Sittana_marble).
> 
> [Kallistan gem](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Kallistan_gem).
> 
> [The Code of the Sith](http://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Code_of_the_Sith/Legends).
> 
> [The Rule of Two](https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Rule_of_Two/Legends).


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who read, commented, bookmarked, and left kudos on the first chapter! I hope you all enjoy this conclusion. Once again, hugs and kisses to the Smut Hutt ladies and please do give [their podcast](https://player.fm/series/the-smut-hutt) a listen because it is THE BOMB DOT COM.
> 
> Until we meet again! <3

The bond hums in delight, and Kylo is lost. Rey's lips move over his like high summer beneath the earth of Krayiss Two, and it's not a gentle green summer as one would find on the more temperate worlds but, rather, the kind that cuts through the land like a knife and settles thick and hazy in the air like fog. It's a Jakku summer, all scorching drought and melted glass, and she _drowns _him in it, with that mouth of hers that tastes like honey wine to his addled senses, with the silky slide of her tongue against his, inquisitive and conquering all at once.

They extinguish their blades at the same time in silent agreement, the hilts slipping from their respective grasps and clattering to the floor as she deepens the kiss and his arms loop around her tiny waist. The ghosts of long-dead Sith lords croon in their ears, the words unintelligible but insistent, phantom hymns of brittle desire. His palm curves over her backside, roughly caressing the firm, pert globes of her ass, and she _moans _ into his mouth, her thighs squeezing around his hips as she grinds down onto him and, _fuck, _it's almost embarrassing how hard he is from just a kiss, from just their clothed bodies pressed together in this feverish delirium.

But there's still something of himself left, the part that is more Ben Solo than Kylo Ren clinging to a thread of sanity that allows him to wrench his mouth from hers and grit his teeth against the darkness closing in. "We shouldn't be doing this," he rasps. "There's a war on—"

The catch in his voice is less than convincing, as is the way he involuntarily tightens his embrace. Rey smirks down at him, her features veiled in the silvery light of false stars. "Exactly— there's a war on. We could die tomorrow. So why shouldn't we take whatever we want now?"

She's throwing his words from the interrogation room on Starkiller Base back at him. He remembers how scared she'd been and yet how coldly furious despite that, entrancing him even though she'd been the one in restraints. Fear and anger, how fully Rey had always given herself to these emotions. How right it seems that it would lead her to where they are now.

"You're not going to die," he says— he _promises, _this past year flickering through his mind like a holo reel.

Rey bites her kiss-stung lip. They're both thinking about it— about all the times he has ordered his ships to cease firing on her getaway vehicle, about the time he'd told the stormtroopers on Batuu to let her go because he'd received intelligence that the Jedi girl was elsewhere. About all the times he has begged her via the bond— _Don't go, it's dangerous, it'll be a bloodbath— _while she stonily pretended he wasn't there.

Along with that are the many occasions on which she'd saved _his _life as well. The bomb that magically didn't go off when she learned he was there. The laser cannon that barely clipped his shuttle's wing even though she's a crack shot and he was all lined up in her sights. They've been sabotaging their own sides for a year now and it's starting to add up. The war can't be won like this.

"I don't want you to die, either." Rey brushes a lock of Kylo's hair away from her forehead. "But, if it comes down to it, I don't want anyone else to kill you but _me."_

She kisses him again, and this time it's not gentle. She _bites, _drawing blood, the coppery taste filling his mouth and his erection twitching in response to the knife's edge between pleasure and pain. It's a battle for dominion as much as it is anything else and he surges upwards, rolling her over onto her back without breaking the kiss, the dark side feeding on his lust and growing stronger within him, causing him to break out into a faint smirk of his own as she gasps into his mouth.

His hands greedily slide down to her breasts, palming them through her black tunic. _Oh, _how she quivers at that, her nipples pebbling at his fingertips as he takes control of their kiss, nibbling at her soft lips and licking into her mouth like he's trying to swallow her whole. It is clumsy, it is graceless, it is so far from what he imagined their first kiss would be, and a bitter laugh unfurls from her end of the bond when she picks up the stray thread of this particular thought.

_I could have given you gentleness once. _ Rey's sharp accusation bleeds into his mind. _I could have given you everything._

The numbing heartache of it all shudders through Kylo's system. He has played a greater part in what's happening to her now than he cares to admit. And, because he is a coward— _weak and foolish, like his father— _he strives to forget, strives to lose himself in her so that the memories of Snoke's throne room are eclipsed by the taste and feel of her as they learn each other's bodies on the cold stone floors.

It takes some work but, between the two of them, they finally manage to tear off her boots and her leggings. Her fingers tangle in his hair as he runs a gloved hand down to the inside of her bare thigh. Perhaps he would have gone slower, perhaps he would have taken his time with her had the circumstances been any different, but there is only _now, _ there is only _this, _ there is only _passion, _and she cries out against his lips as he thumbs her panties to the side and dips a finger into her wet entrance.

A feeble spark of rational thought pierces through the storm clouds in his head. He doesn't want to actually _hurt _her.

_I can take it, _she snarls into their mental link, for a moment sounding like the old Rey again, scrappy and defiant, expecting pain because nothing in her life has ever come easy.

"You don't have to," Kylo says out loud.

He drops his lips to her neck, softly kissing his way down from the edge of her jaw to the base of her throat, one hand fondling her breasts while the other continues to gradually rock a finger into her with shallow thrusts. Soon she is panting, her hips canting instinctively towards his palm, the bond golden and alive with her heightening arousal. He wishes he'd taken off his glove so he could feel her heat on his skin, but far from minding its presence she _revels _in it, the added friction of the rough leather, the ridged seams that she rides her clit against as he adds a second finger and she whimpers like she can't believe it, how utterly she's being stretched—

The dark side drags its claws along the edges of Kylo's consciousness. Fierce and possessive, _midwanjontu chatsatul nu asha._

"You're so tight, Rey," he murmurs in her ear, and is he imagining it, the way her spine arches at the sound of his voice? Curious and encouraged, he continues, "So tight, you can barely handle my fingers— how will I fit my cock inside you, _cyar'ika?" _ He crooks the leather-clad digits within her inner walls at the same time that the pad of his thumb brushes over her clit, and she _comes— _a swift, sudden orgasm that takes them both by surprise.

Kylo is a man possessed. Growling, he sinks his teeth into her neck as she drenches his palm with her wetness, as she clings to him like he's her only anchor to sanity while she falls apart. He is awestruck, she is beautiful, he's never made anyone feel like this before. His fingers are restless, fucking her and strumming at her breasts until she's shaking from the overstimulation, twisting away from him.

But he won't _let _ her. He crushes his lips to hers even as his hand obediently leaves her cunt, and this time— this time she _sighs _into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as he feasts on her sweet mouth.

"Do you have any _idea," _ he asks her hoarsely in between kisses, "how many times I've dreamed of making you come? Do you know what you _do _to me?"

She shimmies against him, rubbing her soaked panties against the unmistakable bulge in his trousers. "I can take a guess," she purrs. "And it's the same for me, too. _J'us tnoi dro ki zahra akasi zo tadta."_

_You run through my veins like a fever._

"Rey, I—" And he wants to tell her that he loves her, that she is the only one he has ever imagined doing this with in years, that there will never be anyone else for him. But her eyes harden as she senses the direction of his thoughts, and she yanks him down by the collar for a bruising kiss before he can say another word.

In some bleak and distant way, he understands. Love has no place in this profane chamber deep within the fossilized arteries of the old Sith Worlds, where the soul is governed by animal instinct and fire and blood. Love is something that belongs to Rey and Ben, not Kylo Ren and whatever Rey is now.

And whatever she is, isn't content to stay under him for long. She tries to roll him onto his back again, tries to claim the upper hand once more— he resists, and suddenly they are both scrambling to their feet, lips still locked as she walks him backwards through that shadow-stained hallway lined with glimmering stars. It's something of a shock when his spine hits the altar's ledge, and she giggles at the undignified grunt that escapes his lips before she swallows it down with more kisses, so hungry and so wild.

Something about the way she greedily and automatically made a beeline for his mouth strikes at him— Rey likes kissing. It's a poignant, sobering realization that's at odds with the heat of the moment. Kylo attempts to gentle the kiss, attempts to cradle her dear face in his hands with all the affection his ruined heart can muster, but she will have none of it, annoyance creasing her brow as she rebuffs his advances by dropping to her knees.

He starts to protest, but her nimble fingers unzip him at a scavenger's quick, efficient pace, and almost before he knows it she's taken the tip of his erection between her lips and she's wrapped her fist firmly around as much of the base as she can and it's _his _turn to cry out, throat arching beneath a starry ceiling.

For as long as he lives, he swears that nothing will ever compare to this, Rey's hot little mouth working its way down his cock. The bond trembles from the sheer, debased glory of it. He buries his hands in her hair and she makes a mess of him, licking and sucking with admittedly more enthusiasm than finesse but he wouldn't have it any other way because it's _her _ and she is _perfect _ and she takes him until he hits the back of her throat. The sound— the _feeling— _ of Rey gagging around his cock is nothing short of a religious experience, and Kylo is utterly _crushed _when she abruptly pulls away with a slick pop.

It's humiliating, the tears of frustration that spring to his eyes. He'd been so _close._

Rey gets to her feet, studying his wrecked expression the way a predator takes stock of the distance between it and its prey through the long grass. She stands on tiptoe, pressing a kiss to his scarred cheek, and it burns like fire. "I don't want you to come yet," she coos in his ear as she reaches back down to lightly pump a small fist on his dripping shaft, and it's too much and not enough at the same time. "You've been very bad. You broke my heart, you know? So you don't get to come until I say you can."

He nods dumbly, letting her maneuver around him until she's sitting on the altar's ledge and leaning back against its pyramidal structure as if it were a throne. As he watches, she spreads her creamy thighs and slides her fingers between them, parting the folds of her entrance for him. Her cunt is all pink and soft and glistening from her previous orgasm and he devours the sight of it, even as he palms his cock to relieve some of the ache and his other hand braces against the altar beside her head.

"Now?" His voice is low and strained, a desperate plea as he looks into her eyes. Perhaps it's a trick of the half-light but he can very nearly swear that there are splinters of gold in her irises, glinting around pupils blown wide with lust before she leans further back, her nape resting against the ancient pyramid.

"Yes, now," she breathes. "Fuck me."

He doesn't need to be told twice. The part of him that is still Ben Solo retreats at the same time that he pushes into her, and thank the Maker that she already came, thank the Maker that she's wet and pliant, because she is so, _so _ tight, clamping down on him as the darkness descends on them both. He ruts into her like an animal, blood in his mouth, her every moan ringing in his ears, the bond twining around their forms in a whirl of thorns and static, the ghosts that linger in this hall shivering and muttering in some grotesque imitation of the ecstasy that they both feel— _how black my heart, how long the night, how sharp the blade, how high we fall—_

Rey's bare ankles latch together at his haunches, forcing him deeper inside her. It _has _ to hurt, he's sure of it, but there's an alluringly twisted smile on her face, as if she's feeding on the pain, as if she's using it as a focal point. Hazily, he wonders if that's something she learned from him as well. He snaps his hips, hitting a spot inside her that makes her _shriek, _her nails gouging at his sleeves, the crackling flames of her energy signature roaring into full-on inferno, the lewd, damp sounds of their coupling filling the cavernous halls.

"You're amazing," Kylo hears himself say in ragged tones. "Everything about you is just— has always been— so _amazing—"_

Rey snorts even as the beginnings of a rosy flush stain her cheeks. "Why am I not at all surprised that you won't shut up even when we're—"

She breaks off mid-sentence, ears pricking, the effect uncannily similar to the stillness before flight-or-flee response kicks in. Kylo freezes as well, his cock halfway inside her, and before he can ask what's wrong her bottom lip wobbles, the naked lust on her features gradually being overshadowed by terror.

"I can hear him," she whispers. She looks so young. "He's— he's calling me again—"

_"Don't." _Kylo reacts without thinking, hunching closer over her so that their foreheads touch. "Don't listen to him, Rey." He presses a kiss to her lips as he resumes his thrusting at a far more gentle pace. "Stay with me."

"Ben, I can't—" She runs her fingers through his hair almost compulsively and then traces the line of his scar, and it's as if hearing her say Ben again is the catalyst for the breaking point that has been building up inside him ever since he walked into this room. He all but melts on top of her, lavishing kisses on her face and her neck as he buries himself inside her to the root.

"Stay with me," he repeats— he _begs, _ in an earnest attempt to drown out the voice in her head the way no one had ever done for him. "There is only this. There is only us." He eases out and then slams back in, hitting _that _ spot inside her again, and again and again, until she's groaning from the slowly crescendoing pleasure of it all, until her hips are rolling against his like the tide. "Look at how well you take me," he babbles in her ear, not really knowing what he's saying, knowing only that he has to say _something _ so that he can make her _understand. _"This is what you and I were meant for. Nothing else matters. Just stay here and be mine."

Rey clings to him like he's her lifeline as she muffles a broken sob into his shoulder. He slips a hand between their bodies to play with her clit, and it's not long before another orgasm crashes through her, the bond flaring defiantly in the face of the dark forces that surround it, her inner walls rippling around him in a series of contractions that bring him closer to his own edge. Kylo grits his teeth, fucking her through it, mumbling endearments into the crook of her neck as they writhe against the altar beneath the earth.

"May I come now?" he pants, his breath huffing at her cheek. "Please, _cyar'ika— _need to come in you—"

"Yes," she slurs, still dazed by the aftershocks but sounding more like herself than she has since the battle at the ruins of the Death Star. "Come for me, Ben."

And he does, back bowing under the gleam of Kallistan gems, spilling inside her in the shadow cast by the Sith pyramid, her name a prayer on his lips. In that moment it seems as if the light intertwines with the darkness, veiling everything in a silvery chiaroscuro. It seems as if something new is being forged from the wreckage of the past.

When Kylo finally lifts his head, Rey's eyes are more brown than gold, the same soft, brilliant hazel that he remembers from the _Supremacy _after the last Praetorian Guard dropped to the ground, looking at him with so much wonder and so much hope. It's not that the darkness has vanished from his energy signature or from hers. Instead, it's fallen back to prowl along the edges, waiting until it can once again be unleashed. Perhaps that's enough for now.

"Hi," she ventures with a tentative, watery smile— one that is reflected on his own features as she lets him cradle her face in his hands at last.

He kisses her with all the tenderness that she wouldn't allow before, content in the knowledge that, whatever happens next, they'll deal with it together. "Hello."


End file.
